


Abstractions

by Joules Mer (joulesmer)



Series: Unlikely Secrets - Canonical Star Trek: Into Darkness [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Star Trek: Into Darkness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29613780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joulesmer/pseuds/Joules%20Mer
Summary: Winona Kirk was something of an abstract concept.Until she wasn’t.An in-canon sequel toUnlikely SecretsA non-canonical alternate sequel is WIP if you’re not a fan of certain elements in ST:ID
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Philip Boyce/Christopher Pike
Series: Unlikely Secrets - Canonical Star Trek: Into Darkness [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2175708
Comments: 32
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

********Two years after Unlikely Secrets*********

Twenty hours of death.

Two weeks of transfusion reactions and a deep coma.

And two days of _life_.

Leonard still felt like he was walking the halls of Starfleet Medical in a daze, terrified that the hours since Jim woke up were just wishful thinking. They weren’t, of course. Jim was very much alive at that moment— the vitals on Leonard’s padd indicative of a restful sleep.

Combing his fingers through his own hair, Leonard toyed with the idea of getting some sleep himself but rejected it. Remnants of adrenaline and stims still fritzed through his nervous system, burning away what should have been deep exhaustion. 

He settled in the hospital cafeteria with a pastrami sandwich and a rapidly cooling cup of coffee. The food didn’t taste like much at all, or maybe he’d lost his ability to taste in his exhaustion.

“Doctor McCoy?”

He didn’t recognize the voice— it was soft but commanding, which should have been a clue. Leonard looked up and blinked. Ho-ly shit.

“Leonard, isn’t it?”

Numbly, he nodded, which was enough of a greeting for her to pull out a chair and settle across from him. Winona Kirk’s gaze was disconcerting, as if she was peering through Leonard rather than at him.

Pinning him in place with a look, she asked, “How is my son?”

Leonard was already responding without even having to think, “With respect, ma’am—”

“Medical records are confidential,” she smiled then, and Leonard realized he’d just passed a test of some sort. “When can I see him? I assume he’s asleep, or you wouldn’t be down here.”

“He’s under lockdown, ma’am. He was unconscious until recently, and isn’t yet medically cleared for debriefing.”

“If Rich Barnett thinks he can keep me out of my son’s hospital room because Jim hasn’t been _debriefed_ he doesn’t know what’s about to hit him.”

Privately, Leonard agreed with the sentiment, even if he felt a transient flicker of sympathy for the admiral. Kirks were something of a force of nature, and Winona’s status by marriage didn’t diminish the effect whatsoever. Relenting, he offered, “He’ll probably wake up soon. I can see if he’s up for a visitor.” There was a satisfaction in her smile that made relief bloom low in his gut, but on top of it all he just felt so damned tired.

Winona regarded him for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision. He’d finished his sandwich, but she pulled the coffee from his hands and said, “Come on.”

As she pulled him to his feet, Leonard only managed a nonsensical, “Huh?”

“What room?”

Feeling like his eyeballs were swimming in their sockets, he admitted, “VIP wing. 403.”

She led him out of the cafeteria and through the building without having to ask for directions. The fourth floor was security locked, but the elevator opened to her comm signature. Aware he should be protesting, Leonard just let himself be buoyed along.

“Dr. McCoy—” The duty nurse stood as they passed her desk, but it was Winona who waved for her.

“Please bring a cot to Kirk’s room, nurse, and we’ll take it from there.”

Whatever the nurse saw was enough for her to agree without question, not that Winona was likely to listen to any objection. 

Room 403 opened at Leonard’s thumbprint to reveal Jim was still sleeping, pale against his stark white pajamas.

Winona’s hand tightened on Leonard’s arm and she breathed out a soft, “Jim.” Then she was moving across the room to the head of the bed, hands clasped together as if preventing herself from touching her son as she repeated his name, “Jimmy.”

Jim didn’t stir, not even as the industrious nurse appeared a moment later pushing a cot into the small room. Winona looked up as soon as the door closed behind the nurse, fixing that unsettling gaze on Leonard before her expression softened. She opened a cabinet and retrieved a blanket in a gesture that revealed she knew her way around the SF medical rooms. 

Winona shook it out and then motioned with her hand. Somehow, it hadn’t occurred to Leonard that the cot was for him.

Sensing his reluctance, she said, “I’ll wake you if we need you— and I’m sure you have an alarm for every eventuality in Jim’s medical feed programmed into your padd.”

He should argue, but Leonard was just so tired that he found himself crawling onto the cot and tugging the blanket over himself. 

*************

The soft pulsing sound of vital monitoring capturing a deep scan permeated his consciousness.

Leonard opened his eyes to find Jim was asleep again, Winona in a chair by the head of the bed. Sitting up, he asked instead of consulting his padd, “How long?”

“About four hours. I thought you might be out longer.”

“I still have stims in my system. Will probably take a few days to wash out.” He had a dim memory of briefly surfacing to murmured voices and two sandy blonde heads tilted towards each other. Jim and Winona. Shucking off the blanket, he slid off the cot and walked to the head of the biobed. “You talked with Jim?”

“Briefly, he only woke up for a little while.”

Leonard nodded while he scanned, relieved to find the younger man’s vitals had continued to normalize. Sensing Winona’s concern, he said, “He’s looking good.”

She nodded, attention focused on her son before slipping up to the monitor over his bed as she read, “Philip Boyce?”

“He’s on compassionate leave— we just needed to hide Jim with his admitting rights.”

“Christopher,” Something about her smile became brittle. “I hated him, because I couldn’t bear to be angry at George.”

“He meant a lot to Jim.” The past tense was bitter on Leonard’s tongue.

“He was a good man.” Winona sighed, brushing blond hair back from her forehead before admitting, “I wish Jim could have known him when he was younger.”

The ‘he’ was ambiguous: it could have meant Chris or if could have meant Jim.

In the last year Chris had tentatively shared more and more about George— revealing more about himself in the process. “You knew him well.” It would have been a question, but it came out of Leonard’s mouth as an assertion.

“He was a wonderful friend. Fiercely loyal to George, of course, but very kind,” her lips curled upwards at memories as she listed, “thoughtful, funny, and always protective of me and our family. He never wanted his own kids— you should have seen the brave face he put on when Sam was a baby— but he was sure ready to love mine from a distance.”

She shifted closer to her son, one hand trailing over the stark white blanket and then settling on her son’s shoulder. “Jim,” She faltered, as unsure she wanted to finish that statement, then looked up to Leonard instead as she stated, “I was always afraid I’d lose him to the stars, but it turns out there are some things you can’t prevent.”

Despite the fact he’d been sleeping, the spare chair looked so damn inviting that Leonard caught the metal leg with his foot and dragged it closer, dropping onto it with a suppressed grunt. He brought his own hand onto Jim’s other shoulder and considered Winona’s words. Nero, Khan— and it wasn’t like every little mission in between had gone smoothly. Meeting her gaze across the bed, Leonard admitted, “It scares me to death sometimes, what Starfleet asks of its captains.”

She smiled— a tense little smile that mixed love and sorrow and had too-much knowing behind her eyes. “When a Kirk loves you the only thing you can do is grab on tight and not let go— no matter what.”

Leonard nodded and agreed, “No matter what.”

Between them, Jim slept, a hand on each of his shoulders.


	2. Chapter 2

“Bones?”

Leonard jerked awake, hand going for his scanner before he realized it was _Jim_ who had spoken. Jim— who was awake and half-sitting up with the way the head of the biobed had been raised. Ignoring the ache in his back from falling asleep in the duraplast chair, Leonard glanced over the monitors anyway before focusing on the younger man. “How are you feeling?”

Jim could have been exasperated by the familiar question, but instead he smiled and replied, “Fine.” Sensing a follow-up question could be coming, he forestalled it by offering, “Mom brought us something to eat.” Winona was conspicuous in her absence, but a takeout container on the table that rolled over Jim’s bed smelled delicious.

Jim looked hopeful, so Leonard leaned over and pressed a kiss to the younger man’s lips. It had been far too long since he could do that properly, so he did it again, deepening the kiss until Jim made a little noise of pleasure in the back of this throat that reminded them both it was neither the time nor the place.

Straightening the head of the bed further, Leonard rolled the table closer and started unpacking the container. It wasn’t hospital food, but from a restaurant around the corner that the medical staff regarded the best in the neighborhood. There was what used to be his regular order as well, back from being a cadet, and a hamburger and fries for Jim. She must have asked for a recommendation from someone he worked with.

When Jim spotted his meal he brightened even further, as if daring the other man to make a comment about cholesterol. Instead, Leonard bit his tongue and offered, “You lost some weight while you were playing sleeping beauty. Just remember you’ll have to re-do the fitness quals.” Jim snorted, as if expressing disbelief that the fitness quals could ever be a challenge for him. 

They ate in silence for a while, before Jim swallowed the last bite of his burger and asked, “How’s Phil?”

The food in his mouth lost its flavor, and Leonard had to swallow hard to get it down. They’d talked, when Jim was meeting with Marcus the day after the attack and they were all still numb with shock and disbelief. Phil had been unable to say more than a few words that morning before breaking down. 

He’d come by the hospital several days ago, just before Jim properly woke up. Phil had been wearing his uniform like armor— pressed and perfect in a stark contrast to the bags under his eyes and creases on his face. The older man had sunk into the visitor’s chair and tentatively laid his hand over one of Jim’s lax ones. He didn’t ask to see the charts; didn’t question how Leonard had managed the miracle of bringing Jim back.

Leonard had politely stepped back when Phil had leaned forwards, murmuring things that were for the younger man’s ears alone. Phil didn’t stay long— a half hour at most— before making his excuses and leaving with a promise or a request to stay in touch. Leonard had dutifully sent updates by text, which had garnered only brief responses. Understandable, given the circumstances.

Aware he’d waited too long to reply to the question, Leonard shrugged and offered, “I don’t know. He had friends staying with him at first— people in the ‘fleet who knew them both. He came by to visit you a few days ago.”

It was the closest they’d come to talking about Chris.

Jim seemed to realize it as well, as his face crumpled slightly, as if he was trying to keep it together even as he said, “I miss him already, Bones. I miss him so much.”

Hell, Leonard felt something twisting in his chest as well. Pushing the table and the remains of their meal away, he moved to perch on the edge of the biobed where he could gather Jim into a hug as he replied, “I know, Jim.”

Jim cried, then, for the first time since that terrible night when they’d all been too shocked and angry to afford themselves the luxury.

Leonard just hung on, letting his own tears weigh-down his eyelashes. It wasn’t okay. It was never going to be okay— he couldn’t promise that. Instead, he remembered Winona’s advice and clung on more tightly, offering reassurance in the strength of the embrace as he said, “I love you, Jim.”

No _we’ll get through this_ or _it’ll be okay_. Just the simple truth.

It was enough. Jim gave a shuddering breath, but some of the tension left his shoulders as he replied, “I love you too.”


	3. Chapter 3

Jim had lost over a kilo of weight since he woke up— closer to two. 

The numbers on Leonard’s padd made him chew on the inside of his lip. 

Jim wasn’t eating, not really, despite how eager he’d seemed when Winona brought them lunch two days before.

It was easy to claim it was the enormity of it all: Pike and Marcus and fifteen thousand and counting killed on the waterfront in San Francisco. 

Leonard knew better.

The casualties on the waterfront were terrible and Jim would probably be dissecting every command decision that led to the augment taking control of the Vengeance, but responsibility for those deaths were Khan’s alone. 

Daystrom… it was Jim who gave the call to clear the room, barely a second to spare after initially being ignored following his relegation to first officer. Jim who was there _with_ Pike instead of representing the captaincy of the Enterprise himself.

Winona’s comings and goings were something of a mystery: she’d appear and disappear on her own timetable, with no predictable pattern so far as Leonard could tell. Jim seemed to take it in stride, and Leonard had caught them in hushed middle-of-the-night conversation on more than one occasion.

He’d have asked her to stick to visiting hours, if not for the fact that Jim seemed more at ease after she’d visited. Not to mention that Jim’s own sleeping patterns seemed completely out of whack as well. There was nothing for it but time, so far as Leonard could tell.

It might have continued in this strange status quo if not for a Thursday at seven o’clock in the evening when Philip Boyce appeared in the doorway of Jim’s hospital room just as Winona had settled into a visitor’s chair.

Unlike the last visit, Phil was out of uniform, but the dark slacks and grey sweater weren’t quite casual. Leonard wondered if it was intentional, or if it was the only clean thing left in his closet.

Phil stilled on the threshold of the room, gaze dancing from Leonard to Jim to Winona. He’d know who she was, of course, even if they’d never met. “You have company,” his voice was hoarse, as if he’d used it too little or too much in the last few days, “I’m sorry, I should have commed. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“No!” It was Winona who managed to speak up first, “Please, come in.”

Phil’s expression was closed off— not hostile but too guarded to reveal how he was feeling beyond the fact that he was anything but at ease. He listened, though, because he gave a tense little nod and crossed the room to the head of Jim’s bed, settling the other visitor’s chair.

Ignoring the others, he had eyes only for the younger man as he said, “It’s good to see you, Jim. You, ah, weren’t awake last time.”

Jim hitched himself up on the pillows, sitting up straighter as he replied, “It’s so good to see you, Phil.” There was an irrepressible waver in his voice— emotion just too close to the surface. Because it was Jim, he didn’t stop there. “Are you okay?”

And because it was Jim, Phil actually answered. “No,” he let out a long, tremulous breath then admitted, “I can’t say that I am.”

They’d spent enough time around Chris and Phil to observe that the two men had been tactile as hell. When Jim reached out and made a clumsy grab for the older man’s forearm, Phil leaned closer to the bed to allow the contact. 

They were at an emotional impasse: no one could think of anything to say that wasn’t too much and too little all at once.

Winona, surprisingly, broke the silence, “It will never stop hurting, not completely, but it’s what you do next that’s important. Talk to your friends. _Listen_ to them— I wish I had.”

Jim’s lips thinned at that, but there was an understanding in his eyes that Leonard didn’t quite comprehend.

Phil looked at her then, _properly_ looked at her, and whatever he saw must have helped because some of the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease. “I will, I—” He cleared his throat and changed whatever he was going to say, “Chris’ old XO took leave. She’s been expressing her concern by cooking for me, but she’s always given us good advice over the years. I’ll talk to her more.”

Winona’s expression changed in a way that suggested she knew who the former XO was, and approved.

Turning his attention back to Jim, Phil asked, “How are you doing? You scared the hell out of us.” No _son_ , that had been Chris’ term of endearment, but the warmth in Phil’s tone was plain. 

“I’m okay,” There was a rasp to Jim’s voice that only made his statement more unconvincing.

“Can you please, just,” Phil dragged a hand over the side of his face as if unsure about what he wanted to say, or uncertain of its welcome, “let Len look after you, okay? For the peace of mind of both of us. Doctors fuss, I know, but sometimes we need to.”

There was a depth of personal experience behind Phil’s words that made Jim listen in a way that he might not have otherwise. 

Leonard felt himself holding his breath, because, dammit, Phil was too perceptive and he needed this too.

Jim’s gaze flicked from Phil to Leonard and he appeared to properly take in the other man for the first time in days. “Bones,” the name was soft, almost muttered, but it captured _I’m sorry_ and _I’ll listen_ and _I love you_.

A weight lifted off Leonard, one he hadn’t realized was there, because he _needed_ to look after Jim now, and all of Jim’s usual ducking out of sickbay and trying to shrug off treatment would be more than his nerves could take at this point.

When Leonard stepped closer, Jim reached out and caught the cuff of his sleeve, entangling their hands as he finally said another thing Leonard needed to hear, “Thank you.”

Swallowing a lump in his throat, he replied, “Always, Jim.”

Phil’s expression was tender as he watched, and although his eyes were sad there was an air of satisfaction about him as he said, “Look after yourself, Jim. Come by the house when you’re out of here.”

Jim answered for both of them, with a firm, “We will.”

Winona and Phil exchanged a nod that was civil, and perhaps a little more, then the older man took his leave without a backwards glance.

With just the three of them left, Winona glanced at Jim and something passed between the Kirks that Leonard didn’t quite comprehend but seemed clear enough to them.

Winona brushed her hair back from her forehead, then fixed Leonard with a look that fixed him in place as she said, “I’m SI, Leonard. That was my retaliation.”

Starfleet Intelligence. 

So much suddenly made sense, yet it was an utter surprise.

“I was going to get the bastards— or at least prevent it happening again,” She gave a laugh that was utterly devoid of humor. “We spent twenty-five years thinking we’d missed something in the intelligence. My cartographic arrays masked carrier signals that listened across two quadrants, trying to pick up some echo of that vessel. Only for Jim and Chris to prove that we didn’t understand anything at all. To go through it all over again, but prevail.”

Her hand crept out and settled on Jim’s shoulder, only to draw back after a brief caress.

She looked back to Leonard and opened her mouth, but he beat her to it, “So this is a ‘if you tell anyone I will have to kill you’ kind of situation?”

She laughed in surprise. A real laugh that made the creases around her eyes stand out as she replied, “I knew I liked you.” Her comm gave a soft chime and she pulled back and stood, mouth twisting in apology, “I’ve got to go. I should be able to stop by tomorrow.”

Leonard watched her go, then perched on the edge of the bed and stated, “Your mom’s a spy.”

“One of the best.” Jim’s fond expression clouded, “I wasn’t lying to you— I didn’t really know either until recently.”

“Jim—”

“From her postings and how the brass acted I always knew she was doing something important that wasn’t really talked about, but—”

“Jim,” Leonard leaned forward and took the younger man’s hands in his own to stop the rambling words, “I know.” Something about the younger man’s expression suggested he was surprised to be believed. Old patterns. Sighing internally, he leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to Jim’s lips, then repeated, “I know you weren’t lying all this time. And even if you were, I know there’s things you’ll be privy to, as captain, that you can’t share with me. I’ve accepted that since you got promoted above me out of the academy.”

“Yeah?”

Injecting a touch of his usual grumble, along with a smile, Leonard replied, “Doesn’t mean I _like_ it, but I’ve made my peace with it a long time ago.” Pausing a moment for emphasis, he repeated, “I trust you.”

Jim’s shoulders dropped as if he’d received a benediction, and Leonard realized the trust had been implied for so damn long that he’d never properly said the words. 

“So now that I know your mom can not only off me but hide all the evidence, I guess that means you’re stuck with me.”

“Yeah?”

“Which means I’d best take you home to Georgia and show you around. Show you off a little too.”

“Show me off?” 

Lordy, the kid was turning into a parrot. “Got to meet my mom now that I’ve met yours. And my grandmother would have something to say about wanting to meet you two. We can stay at the farmhouse, do some riding, get that tan back on your skin.” Leonard leaned in closer, almost conspiratorially, and whispered, “Then I’ll take you surfing. Somewhere really nice. Rent a place for just the two of us.”

Jim’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed, voice slightly hoarse as he asked, “Is this a bribe or something?”

Smiling, Leonard shook his head and asserted, “It’s a _promise_. But you’ve got to show some more progress to get out of here first.”

“And let you look after me.”

Leonard confirmed, “And let you look after me.”

Smirking slightly to show that he was, in fact, entirely on board with the proposal Jim replied, “I suppose I can agree to that.”

Rolling his eyes in return, Leonard muttered, “Damn straight,” before chasing the smirk off Jim’s lips with another kiss.

They weren’t there yet, but they were going to be okay.


End file.
